


The Jason Protocol

by SalParadiseLost



Series: The Wayne Family Emergency Manual [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Dick Grayson, But Bruce is not okay, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Don't worry though, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Reunions, Gen, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, It isn't shown, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Resurrected Jason Todd, Reunions, Sharing a Bed, Sight Warning for suicide ideation, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, jason comes back, there's a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28839366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalParadiseLost/pseuds/SalParadiseLost
Summary: Jason has been gone for 3 months and the grim reality of the situation is sinking in. Even Dick can't help but think that his little brother might be dead again.But then, Dick receives a text.**can be read as a stand-alone**
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: The Wayne Family Emergency Manual [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094495
Comments: 75
Kudos: 632





	1. Two Birds Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Let's write a fun, fluffy series about the Batfamily shenanigans.
> 
> Also Me: Yes. But what about Jason angst.
> 
> So... yeah... I also love hurt/comfort and reunion fics.

Chapter 1: Two Birds Meet

Jason had been gone for three months before any of them said the D-word aloud.

Tim had been the first to break. Dick guessed it made sense for it to be him. Tim was the realist. He was the logical one. He was the one that brought up probabilities and statistics and could whittle their chances of survival down to math.

It was useful in the field sometimes to know that your survival chances were above 70%. It could be comfortable, and a lot of time it acted as Tim’s round-about way of saying they would be okay.

But now, hearing it applied to Jason’s life somehow made everything incredibly real and incredibly worse.

Tim had said it quietly over breakfast when all of them were gathered around the kitchen island. They used to eat at the dining room table, but since Jason’s disappearance, even the mahogany table felt like too far of a distance between them.

“I got a call yesterday,” Tim said slowly, like a storm moving into a harbour. “Commissioner Gordon told me that he’s going to call off the search for Jason. He’s sorry for our loss.”

Everything froze. Dick couldn’t even draw in a breath. His body wouldn’t listen to him anymore. The only thing he could move were his eyes and they were wide and unseeing as he felt something inside him begin to crumble. He wanted to say something, but the words just clogged in his throat and he couldn’t force them to come out.

He wasn’t the only one either. No one at the island dared to speak.

He thought maybe no one would speak. They might just continue their breakfast as if Tim hadn’t spoken and go about their hollow lives. Almost like Jason wasn’t gone. He just wasn’t here at the moment, maybe he’d come home tomorrow.

But the moment was shattered when Bruce slammed his fist on the marble. “Dammit,” he whispered, hard and angry before whipping around to face Tim. He was furious and as fast as a snake and the boy flinched back at his glare.

“Did you offer him more money? What does he need? I’ll give him anything he wants.” He growled, but Dick could hear the edge of panic on his voice.

Tim nodded his head frantically, putting his arms up. “Of course, I did, B, but…” his voice became impossibly small. “He wouldn’t accept it. He said that it’s more than likely that Jason’s dead.”

_Dead._

There it was. That one single horrifying word.

Dick was sure that they all had thought it. How could they have not?

Jason’s disappearance weighed on all of them and as time passed it became more and more likely.

Jason was always one to be independent, but he never went dark so suddenly. He was there one day, and then in the next, he was gone as if he never existed. At first, they had thought that maybe he was just getting some space, which wasn’t uncommon for him… but when weeks passed with no word.

When they realised he had missed appointments, that none of his friends knew where he was, that his apartment hadn’t been prepped as if he was going to leave it for a while, the horror of the situation all became startlingly clear.

They had searched, gods, they had _searched_ , but it became clear…

That Jason was likely…

He was likely…

He was probably dead.

But none of them had dared to say. It was almost like a curse as if admitting the probability would somehow put the final nail into the coffin and damn Jason forever.

As if their silence might be enough to keep him alive.

“No,” said Bruce, and his shoulders shook with the force of the word.

“No?” Tim repeated, cocking his head to the side.

“I’ll call the Commissioner. I’ll talk to him and get the search running again.” Bruce stood and was about to rush out of the room, only to be stopped by Tim’s thin hand.

“Bruce, I think we should consider…” Tim trailed off but met Bruce’s gaze evenly. Bruce hardly blinked, almost as if he was daring Tim to say it. “I think we should also call off our search.”

He said it. Another thing they had all thought but didn’t dare say.

Bruce froze, his eyes icy and dangerous. “No,” he insisted, “I’m not going to give up on him. He could be out there. He could be trying to come home.”

“Or he could be dead.” The words tumbled out of Dick’s mouth without his permission and he desperately wished he could put them back in.

The room was absolutely silent again. Silent. Silent like a grave.

Dick curled his hands around his coffee mug, trying to force its warmth to fill that empty, cold, Jason-shaped part of his heart. All eyes were on him, he could feel their weight on his back.

He sighed and made himself turn to look at his family. All of them were pale with dark circles under their eyes and exhaustion written into their faces. They had all been pulling extra hours since Jason disappeared in an attempt to search for him in addition to their usual crime-fighting.

But it didn’t take a detective to see that they were cracking and barely keeping themselves together.

“We have to start considering the possibility, B. I don’t want to admit it as much as you, but we’re running ourselves ragged. If we keep going like this, we’re going to start putting ourselves in useless danger.”

He had already seen them do it. Bruce was reckless, throwing himself in front of every bit of danger like he was trying to tempt fate herself. He was losing himself, just like he had when Jason had first died, and Dick wasn’t sure that all of them were enough to pull him back.

It was rippling too. Tim constantly looked like he was about to collapse. Damian was losing his self-control, hitting too hard and aiming to hurt instead of to disable. Dick himself had nearly slipped off the edge of a building the other night, a mistake that never would have usually happened.

They were getting reckless and in this line of work, reckless often ended up with someone killed.

 _Someone else killed,_ his mind added, _another dead Robin put in a grave._

His dad rounded on him, betrayal etching into his face like a scar. “Dick, we can’t,” Bruce said, aghast and as broken as Dick felt. The man scrubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe the grief off his face. There was a second, in which Bruce looked utterly lost before that loss turned into anger.

“I’m not going to give up on him. Maybe you can, Dick, but I can’t. I’m not letting him die again.”

Dick flinched and the words hurt more than any blow. Didn’t Bruce see? Bruce couldn’t be this blind?

Jason’s disappearance was tearing him apart. It was tearing all of them apart and that was the problem.

They couldn’t keep going like this and their hope wasn’t enough to keep Jason alive.

Dick’s fury, in which had been pent up instead him like a coiled snake, reared and struck. He snarled, hurling his plate to the ground and let it shatter into a hundred pieces. The sound rang through the air like a death knell.

Broken.

Broken like Jason’s body and Dick’s heart and the fragile bonds that were keeping this family together.

“Don’t you dare say I’m giving up on him.” Dick growled, his tone deadly and dangerous. His rage simmered under his skin, rising into an engulfing inferno. He had kept all this pain bottled for so long, a treacherous part of him wished he could just let it all go and punch Bruce in the face. Maybe then, Bruce would see how blind he was being to how terribly they all were doing.

But, instead of fighting, he swallowed down all the rage again. Ever the good boy. Ever the one to keep it together. Ever the damn golden boy doing exactly what he was supposed to do. He forced it all down, and the fury returned to the pit of his stomach.

“I’m not giving up on him,” Dick said, his voice steady and hollowly calm, even as the anger bubbled in him. It was fake. They all knew it. But going through the motions were all they had right now. “He’s my little brother. I would never give up on him.”

“Then don’t say that he’s dead,” Bruce snarled, equally as dark as his son.

There was a tense moment between them, carefully perched on the cliff between keeping it together and utter destruction.

“Go, Bruce.” Dick finally relented with a heavy sigh. The exhaustion sunk into his bones. “You’re going to do whatever you want anyways. Just don’t get yourself killed while you’re at it.”

He heard Bruce’s chair scrape against the floor and his father’s steps away from them.

It felt like a defeat, but Dick wasn’t even sure who won. Bruce hesitated in the doorway, looking back at his ragged family. Dick prayed that he was going to see what was weighing on them, that he wouldn’t leave them to chase ghosts. They needed him here. He was one of the only things keeping them together.

But Bruce didn’t stay. He turned and was swallowed by the dark hallway.

***

Everything collapsed on a night that should have been normal.

Dick was patrolling solo on the east side, covering his area, and would have been Jason’s if Jason was still…

No. Now wasn’t the time for that. He was already running on barely enough sleep to keep him upright. He couldn’t allow phantom screams of his little brother and the chill of his absence to draw him further into the dark.

There were people who needed him.

Even if he had failed Jason when he had needed him the most. Twice.

“Nightwing? Come in, Nightwing.” Tim’s voice came in through the comms, jerking Dick out of his own head.

“Yeah, I’m here, Red.”

“Wing, please, you need to…” Tim trailed off and all the warning bells began to ring in Dick’s head. “Batman and I are going back to the cave. Please just…” His voice was distant, watery, and as fragile as glass. It scared more than Dick thought possible.

“Be there when we get home.”

Dick had never gone home so quickly in his life, but Tim and Bruce had already beaten him to it.

He expected to find blood. Blood and maybe a corpse, their numbers shrunk again. But instead, all he saw was Bruce sitting on a chair and slumped forward on the table. He had pulled the cowl back and was staring listlessly into the back of the cave.

Tim stood beside him, caught somewhere between flight and loyalty. He hadn’t changed out of his suit yet but had ditched the domino mask.

Nightwing froze, every breath feeling heavy. There wasn’t blood on the floor, but the pain in the room was palpable.

“What happened?”

All a sudden, Tim was running forward and collapsing against him in a hug. Dick rushed to catch him in it, holding his little brother close to his chest. Tim wasn’t really one to initiate physical contact. He enjoyed it, but his upbringing of being constantly alone made him wary of asking too much, like they would stop touching him altogether if an invisible line was crossed.

Dick suspected that maybe that’s exactly what had happened. Tim had mentioned once or twice how his parents thought affection was reserved for the weak and the young. The comments painted a startling picture in Dick’s head.

How many times had Tim asked for a hug and been brushed off? How many times did it take to get him to stop asking? How long until he started thinking he deserved to grow up in a cold, lonely manor?

“Tim?” he asked delicately and ran a hand through his brother’s hair. Suddenly, his brother was small again, the tiny child that Dick didn’t have the privilege to know. “What’s wrong?”

Tim was shivering and a cold, sinking worry fell into the pit of his stomach. “He didn’t move, Dick. There was a bullet, and he didn’t move. It would have… it would have…” his voice trailed off and became empty.

The cold in Dick’s stomach started to spread through his veins and sink claws into his spine.

“I pushed him,” Tim said, his tone listless, “but if I didn’t, he would have…”

Tim doesn’t say the D-word this time and Dick is glad for it. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to bear it. Not with Jason still haunting his mind.

In his arms, Tim was beginning to ramble, repeating the same lines and going over what could have happened (what _would_ have happened) until Dick hushed him. He guided Tim’s face into the crook of his neck and rubbed his brother’s back until the trembling became less noticeable.

It had probably only been a couple of minutes, but they felt like hours. Hours for Tim’s terror to roll into him, coating his skin like oil. He risked looking over Tim’s shoulder and their father beyond them. He half expected for Bruce to have disappeared also, gone to be a ghost like Jason.

The man was blessedly still there, even if he was unmoving and silent, hunched with his head in his hands.

Dick wondered in that moment whether he should say something. Whether he should roar to his brother’s defense or whether he should break down into tears also. If he was honest, he felt like doing both.

He didn’t though because he had something more important bundled up in his arms. An important thing that needed to be bullied into bed so he could sleep off some of the horrible possibilities.

He needed to bring Tim up into the manor. He just had to wait until his own legs stopped shaking. Their hug had long ago turned into clutching each other for balance.

Eventually, when both of them were able to stand, Dick began to lead Tim up the stairs and into the light of the main manor.

Part of him wanted to pause and ask if Bruce was going to be coming up too. A greater part of him wanted Bruce to walk over here and support them like the fucking parent he was supposed to be. But neither of them moved, and the cave began to feel more and more like a cemetery.

A chill ran down his spine, ice sliding between his bones. Why did living in the manor continually felt like begin dead?

He closed the door and left Bruce in the cave that had become a crypt without looking back.

***

Dick didn’t allow any of his siblings to patrol with Bruce from that point on. His judgment had been swift and didn’t allow room for argument. He was going to be Bruce’s only partner and the rest of them would be paired off together. When he told his siblings, he thought that he would be met with objections, but they all silently accepted his decision.

Perhaps that was a sign of how splintered his family had become. Dick didn’t care, though, he wasn’t going to let his siblings see their father die when Jason was still so fresh in their heads.

They were all so broken, so distant…

And Dick didn’t know how to fix it.

He didn’t know whether it was even possible to fix this.

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. The warm summer air of Gotham at night blew against his face, and he tried to breathe it in. His muscles stuttered in his chest and he didn’t think he could get a full breath in.

He was patrolling solo tonight. Damian and Tim were both home and safe, doing the homework and paperwork respectively. Cass and Stephanie were having a ‘girl’s night’. Bruce was out chasing something that he was insisting was a lead on Jason’s disappearance.

Dick didn’t have much hope for it, but then again, he didn’t have much hope left.

The last little bit of it was reserved for hoping that Bruce would come back alive and in one piece.

The evening was almost peaceful until it was broken up by a ding from his pocket.

He reached for it immediately, expected that it was Tim or Damian asking him a homework question, and instead got a message from an unknown number.

It read: “I lived bitch” and under it was a grainy photo of something that might have been a human face.

Dick tilted his head, trying to make out the photo. It was too dark to see any of the features, but something in Dick’s head pushed him to keep searching. He narrowed his eyes, catching on the white strip among what might be hair.

He was still scrutinising the photo when another message came through, a string of numbers that Dick recognised as coordinates.

“What?” he whispered to himself as he tried to figure you who could possibly be texting him. This was his personal phone. All of his contacts were saved under their names, and he hadn’t given his number out to anyone recently.

It was a Gotham area code, which probably meant it was just some city dweller with the wrong number. He was just about to delete it as spam when his eyes paused on the white strip of hair again. His gaze fell to the coordinates and he typed them into his GPS system.

If they were outside of Gotham, he wasn’t going to go, he told himself.

He waited as the phone scanned and they showed a location not 15 minutes away from him.

Crap, he hadn’t thought about what he was going to do if the coordinates were in Gotham. He sighed, already preparing himself to do something that was probably monumentally stupid. Alfred was going to kill him for this.

He ran across the rooftops, letting his phone guide him to the location. As he got closer, he realised that it was coming from a darkened alleyway, a bit away from the main city sidewalk. He dropped on a fire escape of an adjacent building, keeping himself hidden in the murk.

What was it? Friend? Enemy? Some random citizen who didn’t know they were texting one of the city’s vigilantes?

“I know you’re up there, Big Bird, just get down here already.”

The voice made Dick freeze because he hadn’t thought he’d ever hear it again. No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t and yet…

“Jaybird?” He didn’t even try to mask the naked, vulnerable hope in his voice or the sob that threatened to tear it apart.

“Got it in one. Now, get down before I pass out and bite the pavement again.”

Dick was moving before Jason had even finished the sentence. He was scrambling, his movements jerky with disbelief and his chest filling with impossible hope.

He prayed to every god he knew that this wasn’t a hallucination of what Jason’s return could have been that hurt much more than it helped. Could his brain be that cruel when it turned on himself?

When he landed on the pavement, his feet nearly slipped out from under him and he desperately searched the alley.

For a crushing moment, he saw nothing and he began to feel his heart tear itself open again.

“Here,” said the voice again, and Dick couldn’t help the sob this time.

Because there was his little brother, curled into a dirty, brick wall, but alive and whole and _alive._

“Took you long enough, Dickiebird,” Jason said with a toothy grin, even though there was a wince in the edges of it. “I even followed your stupid protocol and everything.”

Dick lunged, wrapping his little brother in a hug and ignoring Jason’s weak protests against it.

Jason was here. He was alive. Again. Dick hated that this was a pattern, but he would never end it if it brought Jason back to him each time. He just wished that his little brother didn’t have to go through it so much.

He clutched his little brother to his chest, feeling his heartbeat against his own. It was thunderous, strong and real between them. It almost seemed to repeat: _alive, alive, alive_ , and it was the most beautiful sound that Dick had ever heard.

Jason huffed and the motion shook both of them, another sacred sign of how real this was. His little brother shifted and cautiously brought his arms up, as if he wasn’t exactly sure how to return Dick’s hug. Despite the clumsy attempt, Jason’s hands were warm and vibrant and alive, even though his worn gloves.

“Hey Jay,” Dick whispered, leaning his head on top of his brother’s. Jason’s hair was soft if a little sweaty and sticking up at all ends with that dumb rebellious streak in the middle of it. It always reminded Dick of baby bird fluff, though he wouldn’t dare tell Jason.

Jason was silent against him, and for a terrifying second, Dick worried that the silence meant this was a dream. Maybe he had passed out on a roof somewhere and his mind had conjured a ghost. Maybe the Jason he thought he was holding was just a shimmering oasis of what he would never have again. Maybe if he believed in it too much, Jason might slip through his fingers and disappear all over again.

Dick tightened his arms, and the unusually quiet Jason barked a curse but didn’t pull away.

 _Please be real,_ he begged. _Please be real and be here and don’t leave._

A second passed… and then another… and Jason didn’t fade away.

If anything, he became more solid and started to shake out of the weird quietness that had suspended between them.

“Alright, Dickhead, that’s enough hugging. I need to breathe eventually.” Jason squirmed and Dick’s grip strengthened. He wasn’t going to let his almost-dead brother go anytime soon.

“Nope,” he said through a smile, laughing a little when Jason’s distress grew.

His brother might be bigger and bulky than he was, but Dick was built on pure determination and brotherly love. Really, if Jason had wanted to shove him off then he probably could have but he didn’t have his heart in the fight and only seemed to be doing it for show.

The small struggle actually comforted Dick and confirmed that it was really his brother here. Jason was a fighter, through and through, and even when he wanted the hug, he felt the need to fight against it a little. It had taken Dick a while to realise it, but that was Jason and that was how he showed he cared in a strange way.

“Seriously, Dick, I will punch you,” Jason’s voice was rising in exasperation and getting a dangerous edge to it. His crime alley accent came out a bit (it always did when he got angry), and Dick had to hold himself back from commenting on how adorable it was. 

Dick wasn’t ready to let go though. He wasn’t sure he could if he really wanted to. The wound of Jason’s disappearance was too fresh and still throbbed in Dick’s heart.

“We thought you were dead again, Little Wing…” his voice was almost too quiet to be heard, but it made Jason still. Dick felt his brother’s heartbeat begin to quicken.

“How long was I gone?”

This time Dick froze. That wasn’t the question he thought Jason was going to ask. He pulled back, not breaking the hug, but giving enough distance so he could see his brother’s face.

Jason looked lost and like he was the one seeing a ghost.

“Fuck, Dick.” His voice was going tight with anxiety. “They were keeping me hooked up on all these drugs and I was only awake sometimes, but even those times the world was blurry. Has it really been…”

Dick shifted uncomfortably. “You can’t remember?”

His frown was beginning to edge into a snarl. “How long, Dick?”

Everything on his face said angry, but his eyes said fear. His pupils were wide and frightened, skittering wildly over Dick’s face. Searching… searching for what?

 _Aging_ — Dick realised with a chill. In the absence of an answer, Jason must have been assuming the worst and trying to figure out how many years had passed.

“No, it’s not like that.” The words rushed out of Dick. “Three months. It’s been three months.”

Most of the tension immediately left Jason’s body and he let out a heavy sigh. “Good, good. Cause not much has changed with me and I would have been pissed if I came back and Tim was taller than me.”

Dick chuckled. The familiarity of Jason’s banter calming his frayed nerves. God, he had missed this. He had missed this so much.

“No, Tim is still an over-caffeinated shrimp. Damian’s katana is about the same size as him. Alfred is, of course, eternal.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “And B?”

“B is…” Dick let his voice trail off. He dropped his gaze, unable to keep Jason’s eyes. “B isn’t doing great. He really missed you.”

Dick heard Jason snort. “Really? I thought he would have been glad to get rid of me especially with how shitty my last resurrection was.”

He couldn’t help his flinch back. How could Jason think that? How could he ever possibly think that? Their family was torn in two by his disappearance, literally ripped in half and gushing blood. How could Jason dare say that they would be happy about it?

“Jason, I want you to listen to me right now.” Dick’s tone had gone hard and commanding. Tim had joking called it his “mom-voice” and it never failed to make each of his little brother’s straighten their spines in attention. “We have done nothing but mourn you for the last three months. We thought you were dead, and everyone was broken, literally broken, because of it. We haven’t been the same without you.”

“Bruce hasn’t even said the D-word. He can’t accept it. Jason, he … We think he tried to let himself get killed.” Dick didn’t miss the way that he said ‘tried to let himself get killed’ instead of ‘tried to kill himself’. But saying it in direct words felt too real, too direct, too close to actually happening.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “Bruce didn’t get out of the way of a bullet. He would have died if Tim hadn’t pushed him to the side.”

Jason shuddered and bowed his head, unable to say anything. Dick knew the feeling. Just thinking about losing their father scared the shit out of him, even if he was grown and independent.

“Fuck,” he said finally, and the word was chased by another sigh. “That bad?”

“Very bad, Jaybird. But it’s okay, you’re back and that means we can fix it.” Dick grinned unable to help himself because everything that he had been wishing for in the last three months was in his arms.

He was so happy, he almost missed the flash of hesitation that ran through Jason.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed immediately, alarm bells ringing in the back of his head.

Jason worried his lip, unwilling to let any more of the anxiety show. “Are you sure you really want me back? I could leave, you know. It could be easier on all of you. The Wayne family really doesn’t need a gutter-rat with an affinity for guns. I—”

“No, Jason.” Dick cut off, his brother before he could keep going. It was a knife to the heart to hear exactly how disposable Jason thought he was. “Please, just come home.”

Jason met his eyes and looked caught between cautious agreement and saying something completely heart-breaking about how he didn’t have a home. A few months ago, Jason wouldn’t have hesitated to spat abandonment in Dick’s face. But now, he could see his brother softening and beginning to find his place. Maybe Jason wouldn’t ever be completely comfortable with them, but now at least he didn’t completely shove them away.

It was slow, but it was an improvement and, at this point, Dick was going to take all the improvement he could get.

“Little Wing,” he said, soft like he was coaxing an animal out of a hiding hole. “Will you let me bring you home?”

Jason searched his face, trying to find a lie in Dick’s position. His little brother was always braced for a punch, even if it was only a figurative one.

Eventually, his tense muscles relaxed minutely, and Jason’s shoulders slumped against Dick’s. He felt Jason’s breath against his neck, and it tickled his skin. Dick hummed, rubbing up and down Jason’s back in lazy circles.

“Can you stand?”

Jason grunted and began to shuffle to his feet instead of answering. He was obviously unsteadily and favouring one leg over another, but he did not ask Dick for help.

Dick rolled his eyes. Jason would crawl home on broken legs before he dared ask Dick for help.

Without asking, Dick swooped under Jason’s arm and balanced his weight between them. Jason growled, momentarily tensing, before silently accepting the help. Wordlessly, he connected to the comms, hearing static before Tim’s tired voice came through.

“Nightwing?” he grumbled. Dick could just imagine Tim trying to drag himself awake from a nap against the Batcomputer.

“Hey, Red, could you send me a transport to bring me home?”

Tim’s breath caught and he instantly sounded worried. “Are you hurt? Do you need back-up?”

“No, no,” Dick assured before Tim could really begin spiraling. The kid had been so much jumpier since the incident with Bruce. “I just picked up something while I was on patrol and I really don’t want to lug it all the way back to the Manor.”

Beside him, Jason muttered something about not being a thing to be lugged, which Dick promptly ignored.

Tim hummed, sounding instantly more suspicious. “It better not be another dog, N, because Damian already tried that and Alfred was not happy.”

Dick huffed a chuckle. “No, it’s not a dog, though it kinda smells like one.”

“Fuck you,” Jason hissed, and he jabbed an elbow into Dick’s side. The hit wasn’t that hard, and the pain was sharp but fleeting.

“Alright, but Bruce isn’t going to like this,” Tim said wearily and confirmed that a vehicle was heading their way.

Dick smiled, tightening his arm around Jason and drawing him closer. “I don’t know,” he said through a smile, “I think he’s going to like this one.”

“Fine. Your funeral.”

Ah, Tim, he didn’t know how ironic he was being.

Dick shut off the comm and shifted closer to his little brother. Jason didn’t shy away and begrudging accepted Dick’s affection.

“I’m really happy that you came back, Jay,” Dick whispered, and the words were as soft as the warm night air.

His brother’s breath caught a little in his chest, almost imperceivable. He didn’t say anything, only stared out into the yawning, neon-splattered maw of Gotham City. 

“Can you believe it?” Jason said finally, “Your stupid protocols actually worked.”

“Of course, they worked. That’s what they are for,” Dick insisted, “Us birds gotta stick together.” He tightened the arm swung around Jason and had to hold himself back from ruffling Jason’s hair.

Jason rolled his eyes. “But even you have to realise that they’re fucking ridiculous.”

“No, they aren’t. They are real, professional protocols that we need to follow.” Dick gasped in mock offense, which Jason met with a flat look.

“Your ‘professional’ binder had sparkles on it. Sparkles, which I’m 90% sure, you put on there.”

Dick shrugged. “I had Damian do the lettering. The sparkles were just an added touch.”

His brother snorted and the sound made a warm feeling light in Dick’s chest. God, he had missed this. He had missed this so much it had hurt. He couldn’t believe he had nearly convinced himself to think he would never hear it again.

Jason continued, not realising that he was putting Dick’s world back together and making him feel whole again, “Yes, because all of your ‘touches’ have ended up wonderfully, Discowing.”

Dick laughed, but some part of him still wanted to cry. “I was finding myself.”

“Yes and flashing your cleavage all over the place is finding yourself.”

“Aww, are you being protective?” Dick poked a finger into Jason’s cheek. “Are you trying to defend my honour?”

“You know what, never mind, go flash anyone you want to.”

Dick couldn’t help another smile and his cheeks were beginning to ache from the force of them. But he wouldn’t trade it for the world, because Jason was back and he was _alive_ and for tonight, nothing else mattered.

Beyond them, the roar of a car came closer and eventually pulled up to bring them home. Dick ushered Jason inside before he swung around into the driver’s side and switched off the autopilot.

Right before he began to drive, Dick risked a glance at Jason, taking in his form crumpled up in the seat. Jason’s eyes were closed, and he looked like he was on the verge of nodding off if he hadn’t done so already. He looked incredibly smaller and younger with all his defences down, his hard edges becoming impossibly softer. All of the big brother protectiveness in him roared and he reached over to brush so of the hair out of Jason’s eyes.

Was this what Bruce felt like when he first brought Jason home?

Dick shifted the car into drive and began to guide the car towards the Manor, once again bringing Jason back.

He had never been so grateful that the protocols worked.


	2. Two Birds in Hand, but Many in the Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick brings Jason home to his brothers.

Jason had fallen asleep by the time Dick reached the Manor, which told him exactly how tired Jason actually was. Usually, his brother would have gotten more keyed up the closer they got to the house, steadily getting tenser the closer he got to the place he was supposed to call home.

Jason should be spitting and cursing like an angry cat with ruffled fur. Dick didn’t exactly _like_ that behaviour, but it was intrinsically _Jason_ and Dick wouldn’t want it any other way. So seeing Jason eerily quiet and looking like a walking bruise, skin mottled purple and parchment yellow, disturbed Dick more than he thought possible.

Oh, he was going to find whoever did this to Jay. He was going to hunt them down, and they would get a therapeutic visit from Nightwing.

Well, therapeutic for him. Definitely not for them.

Dick blinked, drawing himself out of his violent thoughts and carefully guided the car down the Manor’s long driveway. The glow of the headlights made the shadows off of the brushes look longer and stranger.

Eventually, the Manor came into view standing majestically and glimmering from the darkness. It was a golden, warm presence over the night as if the light itself could welcome them back. It reminded Dick of the first time he had saw it and the way the building seemed to promise him that it would be okay. And even though him and his family had had their fights through the years, he didn’t think the house would ever shake its sense of home.

He wished Jason felt the same way about it.

He stopped the car and killed the engine, letting the silence rush in around him. He sighed and the sound was heavier than it usually was.

Within the last hour, his world had flipped on its head. Jason was _alive_ again and that broken piece in him was healing. And his family, which had been so fractured by Jason’s disappearance, were going to be put back together. Bruce, who was on as edge that Dick didn’t even what to think about, would finally come home.

Jason snuffled in his sleep, breaking the tenuous silence and making Dick grin. His little brother’s face twisted, momentarily tensing before going lax again. The small action reminded Dick exactly what was important: getting Jay him.

Dick looked up to the sky beyond the Manor’s golden heights. The darkness was clear and soft, and the moon shone above like a gambler’s smile. It was rare to get nights this clear with all of Gotham’s smog.

Dick hoped maybe it was good fortune, a small break from all the terrible luck he had been having. Getting Jason back, that was better than he could have ever hoped for, he wasn’t sure if he dared to believe his luck might continue to hold through.

He wasn’t one to tempt fate, he decided, so instead of asking the universe to make things better, he turned to his brother to shake him awake.

“Little Wing,” he whispered, words hanging in the air, “we’re here.”

Jason stirred, grumbling and trying to blindly shove Dick’s hand away.

The act made him seem young again and more innocent than he ever actually was. A young Jason Todd, fresh from the Gotham streets, never woke up slowly. That Jason was constantly ready for attack, prepared to jolt at the slightest touch. In the early days, half the time when Dick tried to wake Jason, he was met with a tiny fist to the face.

It had taken time and trust for Jason to lose that edge.

Dick had feared that Jason might have gained that wariness again as he declared himself cut off from the family. He feared that the fragile trust he had managed to gain with Jason was destroyed and lost forever.

But Jason’s actions always spoke louder than his words. (An amazing feat considering how much of a loudmouth Jason was). And this Jason was still blearily trying to fight off Dick’s poking like a drunk kitten.

“Jay,” Dick said through a wide grin, “Jaybird, wake up. Early birds get a worm.”

“No,” Jason grumbled, trying to curl his huge body into a tiny ball. His feet jammed against the footwell, and he cursed sleepily at it.

Ah yes everyone, the fearsome Red Hood in his natural habitat.

“Come on, Jay,” Dick tried again, not completely able to keep the chuckle out of his voice. “There’s a perfectly good bed waiting for you” he sing-songed, “Nice and warm and waiting.”

Jason made a sound that might have been a word and suddenly, there was a sharp, green-blue eye narrowed at him.

“No,” he said again.

“Little Wing,” Dick whined, “I could leave you here, but I have a feeling you would curse me out for it in the morning.”

The keen eye glared at him again until Jason eventually groaned. He straightened up, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He blinked, taking a few moments to get his wits about him. As he realised exactly where he was, his defences slid back into place. Dick watched as the soft edges of sleep got banished and were replaced by Jason’s hard angles.

Dick wanted to flinch and the dramatic shift. “It will be okay. All we want is to have you back.”

He wasn’t completely sure whether the words were meant for Jason or himself.

“Whatever,” Jason said, deliberately nonchalant, even though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

It wasn’t exactly agreement, but Dick would take it.

They stepped out of the car and into the warm night. Jason stood slowly, not hiding his small wince and the way his used the car roof to balance.

Then were going to have to treat that ankle, but that was going to be a tomorrow problem. A tonight problem was getting Jason some painkillers and then into bed. His little brother looked like he could sleep for about a thousand years.

“B, probably won’t even be here,” Dick said, looking towards Bruce’s darkened bedroom window. It was undoubtably empty. Dick wasn’t even sure that B had used it once this week. “He’s out chasing a lead on your disappearance.”

Jason snorted, also looking towards the Manor. “I don’t think he’s going to find me.”

Dick looked to his brother, taking in his angles and the clear signs of life on his face. There was no denying that his brother had grown up handsome, even with the faint scars of their vigilante life written into his frame.

“Oh, I think he’s going to find you,” Dick smiled and Jason met his eyes. His brother gave him a quizzically look.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Dick huffed a ghost of a laugh. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that you weren’t dead for the last three months. Give me a break.”

And surprisingly, Jason didn’t comment on it and only turned back to the house. Dick stepped around the car, silently offering Jason his shoulder. The man grunted as he leaned into it, letting Dick half his weight. He clearly wasn’t happy about it, but he also didn’t flinch away from it.

That was often the way it was with Jason, caught between being pushed away and drawn closer.

Now, with Jason so close, Dick could feel the slight tremble going through him. He was either in a lot more pain than Dick thought, or Jason really was nervous about coming back.

If he was a betting man, he would put his money on the latter.

Jason didn’t seem to be moving, so Dick took charge and began edging him forward. Jason stuttered a step before following after him.

Even though, his brother was literally dragging his feet, Dick managed to finagle him through the front door and somehow got him into the mansion.

Dick wasn’t surprised to find the entryway dark and empty. Ever since Jason’s disappearance, the Manor had been dampened. Their house used to be bright all the time, with someone always up and doing something. But now, there was an unmistakable darkening that hung all of their shoulders and they all felt it when then stepped in the house.

There were no longer any late-night movie marathons. No sneaking into the kitchen like it was a high-profile spy mission (which it kinda was with Alfred). No random pranks or running away from subsequently enraged siblings.

It was all gone and replaced by a strange and haunting dark.

“Holy shit,” Jason whispered, “Who died?”

Dick pinched him. Hard. The yelp was at least satisfying.

“What the fuck, Dickiebird, why did you—”

“Dick? Is that you?” A new voice cut off the inevitable bickering that was about to come. They both froze and turned in slow motion to Tim who was standing on the staircase holding up his phone flashlight.

His face was impossibly paler in the artificial light and staring at both of them like he had seen a ghost. Which, really, he kinda had.

“That’s not a dog,” he said breathlessly the shock not leaving his face.

“Uh… surprise?” Dick said, pushing Jason forward a bit like he was showing him off.

Tim clutched his phone to his chest like a shield, knuckles bone white around the device. His eyes were impossibly wide, baby blues taking up his whole face. 

“Jason?” he asked reverently and full of disbelief as if saying the word too loud would scare the spectre away.

Beside Dick, Jason was completely still and as tight as a livewire. Maybe if Dick’s arm wasn’t holding Jay’s shoulders, he would have taken off.

Oh, his little Jaybird, always so flighty.

Tim took slow, careful steps towards them like he was approaching a dangerous animal. His eyes were locked on Jason’s, searching.

 _For pit-rage_ , Dick realised with a start. Because last time Jason had come back it had ended up badly for Time.

Almost getting killed badly.

He knew that Tim had forgiven Jason long ago. He understood pit-rage and its influence on Jason at the time. As he got to really know Jason, the two had even formed a weird sort of team-up thing that Dick joking called the Double Red’s. Plus, they were both snarky as hell.

He also didn’t think that Tim ever lost his hero worship for his brother. When the boy looked at Jason, there was still a gleam of Robin in his eyes.

Jason, though. Dick knew that Jason didn’t see himself in the same light or had let himself be forgiven. The rage and its influence haunted his brother and clung to his back.

“Jason?” Tim repeated the name, coming ever closer. Even from the distance, Dick could see he was trembling.

Tim stopped just out of arm’s reach, eyes skittering frantically over his brother.

And then his face crumpled in absolute misery.

“This is a dream isn’t it?” Tim’s voice was flat and lifeless, all the hope that had been in it earlier was sucked dry.

Tim surveyed Jason, this time without the reverence and more like he was inspecting a machine. “This is a good hallucination,” he commented.

That finally shook Jason out of his statue impression and made him twist his face in anger. He straightened standing at his full and impressive height. “I’m not a damn hallucination,” he spat.

Tim tilted his head like a small, confused owl. “That’s exactly what a hallucination would say.”

Dick shouldn’t laugh at that, but he did anyways. Jason shot him a glare of betrayal that only made Dick snicker more. The depressive silence that had descended on the house seemed to lift.

When Dick stopped laughing, Tim was staring at him like he was cracked. But underneath that, tenuous and fragile, the flicker of hope had been rekindled.

“Oh my god,” Jason groaned, hanging his head. “You two are the world’s stupidest geniuses. I swear, this fucking…” He trailed off before fixing Tim with a sharp, green gaze.

“Aren’t you the smart one? The detective? Fucking figure it out.”

And that was enough to shatter Tim’s resistance.

“Jay?” His voice was watery and edging on a sob.

The sound of it made Jason’s anger flicker away and be replaced by something softer.

Something that Dick would call affection.

“Yeah, Baby Bird, in the flesh.”

There was a blur of motion and suddenly Tim was throwing himself at Jason. Usually, Jay could have caught Tim easily; the kid was light and still growing into his gangly limbs, and Jason was enough of a tank to rival Bruce. But Jaybird was still nursing a hurt ankle that wasn’t ready to bear weight and Tim had the full force of desperate little brother behind him.

So, when Tim hit Jason, probably expecting for his brother to catch him, he wasn’t prepared for both of them to crash to the ground in a cursing heap.

Jason’s arm was yanked from Dick, both of them in a messy collection of jabbing elbows and knees. Tim yelped from the ground, struggling against Jason’s bulk, somehow wedging himself fully on top of his brother.

“Jason!” he barked, poking Jay in the middle of the forehead.

Jay went a little cross-eyed trying to follow the movement. “What? Why are you making it sound like I did something wrong?”

“You asshole. You’re alive!”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Replacement.”

Tim froze, balanced on Jason’s chest and looking him straight in the eyes.

Jason purposefully glanced to the side, unwilling to keep Tim’s gaze. “You’re crushing me,” he grumbled, but there wasn’t any heat behind it.

“You’re here. You…” Tim voice broke and he clutched the fabric of Jason’s shirt like it was a lifeline. “Did you get resurrected again?” _Did you get sent into the Pit again?_ was the question that thrummed underneath it.

“Nah, Timbo, one time is enough. I just got jumped and drugged up by some people with a grudge against the Bat. I guess they realised that I was part of the Fam.” His eyes floated to the ceiling, before settling on the boy laying on top of him “Are you going to get off me?”

Tim’s demeanour instantly changed, shifting into something more analytical. He didn’t move though, and instead tapped his fingers in thought against his pillow’s shoulder.

“Was it the Pierce group?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Nasty motherfuckers with a steady gun trade and a troubling foothold in the drug trade.”

“Yeah.”

“Got it in one, Replacement,” Jason confirmed with an impressed little smile. Tim soaked it up with a self-satisfied smirk. “Now get off me.”

Tim ignored Jason again and shifted to look at Dick. “Wasn’t that the group B was going to be checking out tonight?”

Jason grunted, but apparently accepted his newfound role as a mattress. He placed a loose arm over Tim’s back and lazily traced a hand up and down his spine.

Dick sat on the floor, coming closer to his collapsed siblings.

“Yeah. I don’t know what exactly his doing with them, but he has them in his sights.”

Jason looked between them with a confused crinkle in his eyebrows. “Aren’t all the bats and birds on the case? I would have thought Bruce called in everyone.”

“He did at first. We searched for months and…” Tim’s face fell, and he seemed to deflate. “A lot changed, Jay. Bruce, he doesn’t… he’s been pushing us all away from cases.”

“And you let him?” Jason said incredulously.

“I asked them not to,” Dick cut in and something in his voice made Jason snap his jaw shut. “Bruce isn’t thinking anymore. He’s not being cautious. He’s getting reckless with his own life and I’m not going to put a Robin’s life on the line because of it.”

Dick didn’t bother to keep the growl out of his voice.

He looked down at his little brothers and saw everything he could have lost: Jason, who brushed closer to death than anyone ever should, and Tim, who had nearly been shattered by watching his father figure’s reckless almost land him in a grave.

Neither of them should have experienced that, and Dick was going to fight tooth and nail making sure it didn’t happen again.

“Woah, Big Bird,” Jason’s voice sounded younger than it usually did. “You look scary.”

Dick started and realised both of his brothers were staring at him with wide, astonished eyes.

“You’re doing that mother hen, protective thing again,” Tim added.

Dick’s fury melted away and was replaced by warm, fierce affection. He couldn’t help himself. He threw himself on to his collected brothers, wrapping both of them in a hug.

Tim squawked, getting smooshed between them. Jason wheezed and grunted.

“My ankle, my ankle, watch my ankle,” he repeated. In an ideal world, Jason wouldn’t have a clipped wing and wouldn’t have disappeared in the first place.

But this. Tim and Jason both safe in his arms. This was more than enough. 

Give him Damian and his heart would nearly be complete.

“Grayson? Drake? I heard commotion.”

Ah, speak of the demon and he shall come.

Dick rolled off of Jason and laid on his side so he could look at Damian.

The boy was tense on the staircase, with his sword clasped in his hand. It was ironically similar to how Tim approached with his phone clutched to his chest. He looked prepared for a fight was concerned at seeing the heap of bodies on the floor.

“Dami,” Dick chirped, ignoring the groans both of his younger brothers made. “Jason’s back!”

Damian scowled, eyes flashing between Dick and the two bodies. He obviously didn’t believe him. “Grayson, Jason is dead.”

“Ouch,” Jason said through a laugh, “That one hurts, demon brat.”

The sword clattered to the floor and Dick watched his littlest brother visibly go to war with himself. First was a bright flash of happiness, just a burst of it before it was buried between wariness and caution. His brother was frozen, not knowing what to do or where to go, even though he obviously _wanted_ to rush towards them.

God, curse the Al Ghul’s and how they trained all the childhood innocence out of Damian.

Jason apparently saw it to, because he sat up. He gently moved Tim to his lap, so the kid wasn’t lying right on top of him, and looked Damian in the eyes. There was a tense silence between them as they regarded each other and it reminded Dick of two cats circling each other.

Jay broke first, motioning Damian forward. “Come here, bat brat. You’re too hard to see that far away and I know you want to.”

Damian stepped forward, careful, cautious and not completely sure that this wasn’t a trap. He was glaring (which was normal) and his eyes were rapidly skittering over Jason looking for a trick. Or maybe he was expecting Jason to disappear into smoke at any moment.

“Todd, have you managed to crawl out of the grave again?” The words were harsh, but the tone didn’t match, and Dick was much better at reading Damian now.

_Are you hurt? Did you die? Are you really here?_

The questions were there is you knew where to look. Dick looked to Jason to see if he heard the questions just the same as he did. They met eyes and a silent agreement went between them.

“No, brat, I didn’t die. Some goons were playing dirty and got the jump on me. I should have been able to fight my way out, but they were feeding me a steady diet of drugs and pain.”

Damian scrunched his nose, but some of the tightness went out of his shoulders. “I’m sure your incompetence led to your capture. However, I am relieved that that you did not perish as it would have been a great inconvenience.”

A younger Jason would have gotten angry at the words, but this older version just huffed a laugh. “God forbid I inconvenience you with my death.”

The youngest nodded with intense and grave seriousness. “Grayson would be blubbering all over the place and it is quite pathetic to see. His face gets all red and blotchy and it’s disgusting.”

Dick looked at Damian affronted. “Hey.”

Tim piped up from where he was half in Jason’s lap. “You should have seen it, Jason. Dick could hardly look at a picture of you without bursting into tears. One time, he saw a dog with a white patch of fur on his head and he tried to convince Bruce to adopt him and name it JayJay.”

“Okay, that’s enough. This isn’t make fun of Dick time.”

Damian gave him an exasperated look. Tim and Jason looked at each other before giving him expressions of pure innocence.

“We would never make fun of you,” Tim said while blinking his huge, baby blue eyes.

Jason's blameless looked turned completely evil. He smirked and pet Tim’s head in a way that gave Dick the impression of a supervillain stroking a cat. “How could we ever tease our big brother?”

He loved his brothers, but sometimes he really wanted to throw them into a ditch. “Alright, I get it. I’m an ugly crier and I missed my little brother a lot.”

The traitors all snickered at his plight.

Damian recovered first, straightening his spine into a more regal stance. “We are all in agreement then. Todd shall refrain from dying or disappearing as it would be too much of a disturbance on our daily lives and it would cause Grayson to be entirely too pathetic.”

Jason snorted from his position on the floor and Tim nodded.

“Sounds like a deal.”

It wasn’t exactly an ‘I missed you’ from Damian, but it was as close as they were going to get. Dick looked at his little brother still standing over them with his arms crossed. Which Dick thought was entirely too far away given how all of them were all cuddling on the floor.

Dick grinned. Damian raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “Grayson, what are you…”

The acrobat launched himself at his youngest brother, bringing him down into the pile as he yelped.

“Grayson unhand me or else I will—”

“Guys—” Tim cut in with a hiss “—You are going to wake Alfred!”

They all instantly hushed, waiting to moment to listen for the butler’s tale-tell even steps. When there was none, they all let out a sigh of relief.

“We shouldn’t tempt our luck,” Dick said, while he smooshed his face into Damian’s. His little brother threatened him again, but Dick didn’t let go. “Anyways, we have to get our favourite Jaybird back to his nest.”

“I’m not a bird,” Jason squawked, his voice had a little growl.

“But before that,” Dick chirped and the enthusiastic tone made each of his brothers tense. “Family hug!”

All of his little brothers groaned collectively (one of the few things they all agreed on) but none of them pulled away as Dick tried to hug all of them at once. His arms weren’t nearly long enough, and he was just barely scraped at Tim who was on the outer edge.

It wasn’t a comfortable position. Damian’s bony little body was practically on top of him. One of Jason’s elbows was digging into his hip. Tim was grumbling about being ‘crushed to death’.

But there was no place that he would rather be, and he felt that shattered part inside of him coming back together. If only Bruce and Alfred were here, then his little family would be complete. Bruce was out and Dick didn’t dare bother Alfred when the butler so needed his sleep.

After all, Jason would still be here in the morning.

God, wasn’t that something that seemed like a miracle.

Minutes passed, more than his brothers would usually allow, but they were indulging him. Eventually, though, all good things had to come to an end, and Dick knew he finally had to put his brothers to bed.

“Come on,” Dick said when his arms began to ache a little at the awkward angle and the sheer effort of trying to capture all of his brothers in his arms. “Let’s get all the birds back to bed. Jason, I have some pain pills that I can bring you.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Jason agreed with a groan. He didn’t shove his brother’s off of him, but he nudged Tim with his shoulder and poked Damian in the ribs. “Come on, you leeches, I want to sleep in a bed, not a cold floor.”

Damian fluidly moved to his feet, getting up as brushing off some imaginary dust on his pyjamas. “That sounds acceptable.” He said primly, before beginning to march back to his room.

Tim grumbled, but also moved to stand. He stretched and his joints cracked and popped in a way that make Jason’s face twist in offense.

“Holy shit kid,” he still sounded affronted, “I don’t think human bodies are supposed to make those kinds of sounds.”

Tim didn’t acknowledge Jason and just began to stumble off towards his bedroom. The Manor was dark, so it was a slow and careful process. Damian had hung back at the top of the stairs and whispered something to Tim as he passed. Nine out of ten times that probably would have started a fight, but Tim must have been too tired because he just ignored it.

Dick nudged Jason’s shoulder, looking down on his brother on his back. He offered a hand with a small, silent smile. Jason glanced at him, then to the hand and then back at him.

He had begun to pull back his hand when Jason took it, swinging himself up and leveraging himself on to his good leg. “Come on, Big Bird, let’s get this show on the road.”

Dick put his arm across his brother’s, relishing the way it felt like another hug. Together they got Jason up the staircase and into Dick’s room.

He thought about taking Jason to his own room, but ultimately decided against it. Jason’s room was one of the furthest down the hall and Dick was tired. He also wasn’t completely sure he was ready to let Jason go just yet.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Jason mumbled as he collapsed on to the bed. He landed with an audible ‘oomph’ and Dick watched is he sunk into the memory foam. Usually, Jason would have been protesting by now, but now he was just curling under the sheets like a cat.

He laughed and nudged Jay. “Hey, stay awake. I’m getting your pain pills.”

He got a sound that might have been a word, but also might have just been a grunt. That was probably as much agreement as he was going to get, so he nudged (maybe it was more of a jab) Jason again for good measure. His brother tried to swat him so that was a bit of a confirmation.

He went to the hallway bathroom where they kept some of their medical supplies and retrieved the pills he needed. They were definitely going to have to give Jason a full medical assessment in the morning, but for now, there wasn’t anything life-threatening and Jason seemed to be about to collapse on his feet.

He sighed and stifled a yawn as he began to fill up a cup with sink water. He was exhausted too and his bed’s call was getting sweeter and sweeter.

Dick returned to his room, ready to wake Jason in case he fell asleep, and found that there were additional Robins in his bed.

“You know,” he said, putting a hand on his hip with an affectionate smile. “I’m pretty sure there was only one bird in the nest when I left the room.”

Jason laughed; Dick didn’t hear is but he obviously saw his brother’s shoulders shaking. His brother shifted on to his side, protectively curled around the two smaller bodies that had snuck into his bed. “That’s one of the weird things about this house. Children just multiply and appear everywhere.”

“Hmmm, sounds like an infestation,” Dick mused as he passed Jason the pills and the water. “Perhaps I should call an exterminator?”

“Nah,” Jason shot down the pills and the water. “They are sort of charming. I don’t mind them.”

He passed the cup back to Dick and settled further into the bed with a heavy sigh. Jason stared up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes. He absent-mindedly rubbed up and down Tim’s back in a small show of tenderness.

He would have thought that Tim was asleep if not for the small smile that flickered on the boy’s face. Which Dick greatly approved of; Tim needed all the affection he could get to make up for lost time.

“Come on, Big Bird,” Jason scoffed, motioning to him with a lazy wave. “I’ll shoot you if you ever mention this to anyone, but right now just get in the damn bed.”

Dick smiled. This day hadn’t turned out how he thought it was going to. This morning he had woken up alone and thinking that his brother was dead. Tonight, his bed was filled with his siblings and his brother was alive and cursing at him for being a sap.

“Dick, stop just standing there and grinning like a loon. It’s creepy and there’s no way in hell I’m going to sleep with you watching me.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that logic. He dimmed the remaining lights in the room and closed the door. Carefully, he navigated the room and climbed into the slightly less occupied side of the bed. It was probably too smaller for two fully grown men, a teen and an assassin child, but they made it work.

Jason was quickly falling asleep on his stomach, arms shoved under his pillow. He was watching Dick, but his eyes were half-mast and he looked like he was going to drift off at any moment. Tim had taken back his place, literally on top of Jason. The kid was completely passed out and drooling a little into Jay’s shirt. Every once in a while, he would mumble nonsense questions, which Jason murmured an answer to. It was a strange back and forth that made warm affection fill Dick’s heart.

Once he settled into a comfortable position, Damian almost instantly latched on to his side and shoved his face into Dick’s ribcage. Despite all of his objections when he was awake, Damian turned into a heat-seeking missile when he was asleep. It didn’t really matter which family member it was (and only family members, because this didn’t apply to strangers) whenever he slept he curled into the smallest ball possible, right up against their side.

It would have made Dick smile, if he wasn’t smiling already. Because everything was alright again. The world had tilted back on its axis. His family was back. Jason was alive and warm and curled up a few feet away from him.

The world seemed to lull around him, growing fuzzier at the sides until finally Dick gave up and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> I was really excited to write some brother reunions, so I hope you enjoyed it! Originally, I was going to put Bruce's reaction at the end of this, but the chapter was getting a little long, so I decided to make another chapter to this little fic. 
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed this story! Flattery gets you everywhere.


	3. The Bat and all his Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets a surprise.

It had been a failure. Again.

Another black mark in a long list of them. Another day Jason might be… Another night his son might be…

He clutched his own armour in his hand, squeezing it to the point it was groaning under his fingers. The guilt inside him rolled and curled and hissing its poison into his throat. He had kept it bottled for so long at this point he just wanted to scream.

To scream and shatter something and make everything around him feel as broken as he felt. As if the pain would somehow become payment to bring Jason back.

Instead, he forced himself to calm (as calm as he could be with Jason _gone_ ) and let it out in a heavy sigh. His body remained tight with the anxiety that hadn’t left since he realised his son was missing. He took off the cowl and the leather never felt so fake.

He continued getting out of the uniform and put it away. The other versions of the Batsuit all stared at him like ghosts, ethereal beings coming back from the grave to judge him.

Was it because he put another in their ranks?  
  
Somewhere in the dark of the Cave, a torn, bloody uniform floated in a case like a phantom.

He sighed again and rested his forehead against one of the uniform cases.

The glass reflected his face back to him. Worn, torn, marked with the signs of Jason’s disappearance. The bags under his eyes were prominent and his wrinkles were deeper. The stress was weighing him down and he could physically see it changing him.

He hated to acknowledge it, but things were breaking. Him. His family. His everything. What would be left if it never came back together?

He didn’t even know how to fix it.

He _had_ to be able to fix it. But how…

The silence of the Cave yawned around him, curling its dark tongue on his back. The lack of sound was oppressive and only showed exactly how alone he was.

Even though it was late, usually _someone_ was down here when he got back. Most of the time it was Tim typing away at the Batcomputer with one of his siblings at his elbow helping him on a case or trying to drag him to bed. If Dick was in Gotham, he would usually be coming home around the same time as Bruce and suiting down. Damian would be waiting up for him, using his request for Bruce’s presence as a way to put off going to bed. Jason, if he had decided to come home at all, was almost always the last one to go up into the Manor. He disguised his actions as something else like cleaning his guns or working on his motorbike, but he always stayed up and waited till each of his siblings had come back before coming to bed himself.

But ever since Jason’s disappearance (not death, never death), the Cave had grown empty and Manor didn’t have its laughter anymore. All of his boys could feel the difference, the lack of an essential part of their family. He needed to fix this. His family was the most important thing in his life. If he couldn’t protect his family, then what would stop the evil in the world from taking another one of his children… and another… and...

No.

He couldn’t let himself think like that. Jason was alive, dammit, and he was going to bring his boy back home. He could protect his family.

Tonight was supposed to be the night he had brought Jason back home. He had been tracking the Pierce gang for weeks. He _knew_ that the gang had something to do with Jason’s disappearance. He even suspected that they had Jason in their clutches.

He had been so sure about it.

But when he crashed into the warehouse, ready to bring his boy back him, all he found was nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, he found the gang, but not a trace of his son. Just another place where Jason’s disappearance sunk into every corner.

He took his anger out on the goons.

Jason would have been proud.

His eyes stung as the thought entered his mind and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dick’s chastised him on losing his temper. No one was dead, of course, but some of the men might have trouble walking correctly in the future.

He knew he should care. He had been getting too reckless. His fists swung too easily. He waited too long to launch his grappling hook. He wasn’t taking the same precautions that he usually took and he had new scars to show for it.

But every time he thought about trying to slow down and think about his actions more, images of Jason’s broken body flashed into his head. Guilt roared in his body and told him he wasn’t doing enough, he wasn’t caring enough, he wasn’t going to get there in time as Jason would end up dead again.

No!

He swung a fist forward and into the glass. The material vibrated under his hand, but it didn’t break. He almost wished it did.

Bruce sighed, exhaustion hanging heavy on his shoulders. He needed to regroup and figure out where he went wrong with his suspicions about the Pierce gang. He had been so sure that it hurt. He had really, truly thought that he was going to find his son tonight and now that that hope was shattered, the broken pieces of it tore his insides apart. He didn’t know where he could have possibly gotten incorrect information, but he was definitely going to be spending tonight figuring it out.

Before it did, though, he needed to check on his other children. Thoughts Jason’s death already haunted him, licking up his spine, digging fangs into his flesh. They burned bright and consuming and the flames of them threatened to swallow the rest of his family. He needed to see the rest of his boys— if only to calm his frantic, tearing nerves.

And then he could spend the rest of the night figuring out how he failed again.

He climbed the stairs into the Manor and quietly began to head to the family wing. Usually, coming up into the Manor filled him with a sense of relaxation, a completion that only his family could bring him. But now, it felt as empty as the place in his heart where Jason was supposed to be.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred’s voice startled him, and he whipped around to see his butler holding a candle. Alfred was one of the only people able to sneak up on him and he was glad to see that at least one thing hadn’t changed.

“Alfred,” Bruce said through a tired smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

The butler matched his smile and the warm light of the candle flickered over his features. “You didn’t actually. I heard Master Dick come in and was hoping to greet him before he went to bed. He entered through the front door, which is strange because he always goes through the Cave when he comes back from patrol.”

“That is strange,” Bruce looked up towards the family wing. “But a lot is strange right now.”

Alfred looked towards the ground, his smile turning into a deep frown. He looked impossibly older than he had just a few moments ago. “Indeed, it is.” There was a pause before he spoke again. “I take it your latest efforts to retrieve Master Jason have failed?”

Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “No. Not a trace of him.”

Alfred matched his sigh and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Do not despair, Master Bruce. We will bring him home in due time. For now, though,” he looked towards the bedrooms of the other boys, “you must care for the children you have present.”

The sentence hit him like a punch to the gut because of the implication. The implication that one _wasn’t there._ This was all so wrong. So terribly wrong. He had gotten Jason back, so why couldn’t he hold on to him? Why did his boys constantly slip through his fingers?

Some of his pain must have shown on his face because Alfred stepped forward to put a hand on his arm. The weight of it was calming and ground him in what he had instead of what he was missing.

“You’re right as always,” Bruce said, following his butler’s gaze. He knew that he needed to be better and that his actions were affecting his family. Dick had told him multiple times (more like yelled it to him), and he knew the stress was beginning to break his eldest. He hadn’t been fair unloading all the responsibility on to Dick, but he couldn’t.

He just couldn’t.

Not when every time he wasn’t working on Jason’s case, images of Jason dead taunted him and made him feel like he was drowning.

“I was just going to check on them,” Bruce said, trying to get the images of Jason’s death out of his head. The flames and the smoke of the explosion began to stalk towards his other children’s innocent bodies.

“Go back to bed, Alfred. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course,” the butler said, but instead of turning around, he hesitated a moment. For a second, he looked unsure like he was about to ask a question but thought better of it. It was rare to see the confident butler doubting himself.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing Master Bruce, it’s just that…” he paused before continuing, “I swear I heard multiple voices when Master Dick came in. I believe it was just Master Tim and Master Damian, but…”

“But what?”

“Nothing. I think it was just the wishful thinking of an old man because I thought I also heard Master Jason.”

Bruce’s head fell and his guilt sunk its teeth into his heart. It hurt more than any blow by a villain. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I swear I hear his voice too.”

They both sighed, not able to meet each other’s gaze. They had both lived through Jason’s first death. They had both cried for him and felt the pain of losing a family member. They had both barely recovered.

Jason’s disappearance was forcing them to relive it again, opening wounds that had never fully healed.

“Look at us,” Alfred’s voice shook him out of his own thoughts. “Two old men reminiscing when they should be sleeping.”

Bruce tried to laugh, but the sound never fully developed. “I’m the only old man here. You don’t look like you’ve aged at all.”

That was enough to finally draw a smile back on Alfred’s lips. “Goodnight, Master Bruce. I will see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Alfred. I will see you in the morning.” Bruce repeated the butler’s words and watched as the man returned to his room.

When he had talked with Alfred, he had begun to feel lighter, like the darkness of the house was a little less oppressive. But now as his father figure left, he felt the weight of it returning to his shoulders.

It took a herculean effort to bring himself to climb the stairs and walk towards his sons’ bedrooms again. So much of him wanted to go back into the cave and lose himself in finding Jason, but he forced himself to check on his other sons, just to know they were all safe and still there.

Dick’s bedroom as closest. The first one to be occupied and the nearest one to Bruce’s room. It had the door closed now, which was strange because Dick almost compulsively left his door open. Dick’s door almost seemed to dare his family members to wander in and talk with him, even when he was asleep.

Seeing the closed door made Bruce pause, hesitating before turning the handle. He nearly turned around, ready to give up and go back down to the Cave. It was hard to walk into a sleeping Robin’s room and a closed door just made it even harder. He didn’t want to wake Dick when he had just gotten back from patrol.

But something in him kept nudging him forward, urged him to carefully enter the room.

The room was dim, only lit by the moonlight and a Nightwing nightlight that Dick had near the bathroom doorway. Despite the darkness though, he could make out multiple shapes on the bed.

The sight brought a smile to Bruce’s face and, even though his heart had been cold since he realised that Jason was gone, a warm affection lit inside him.

How could it not? There were his sons all curled up on top of each other and impossibly safe from the horrors of the outside world. Bruce wished that he could capture them at this moment and keep them safe from anything that would threaten them. Bruce wished that he was able to and that one of his sons hadn’t already succumbed to the danger.

He wished that it were all of his boys nestled in the bed and not an incomplete set.

Silently, he walked forward careful to not wake the figures on the bed. He easily made out Dick hugging Damian to his chest like he was clutching a stuffed animal. Damian, for his part, didn’t seem to mind it, but did have his face twisted in a scowl even while sleeping. Tim somehow horizontal on the bed, leveraged with his legs on Dick’s hip and his face smooshed into Jason’s stomach.

He froze.

And looked again.

And Jason was still there used like a pillow by his little brother and making sleepy noises that borderlined on a snore.

No, no. This couldn’t be true right? This had to be some kind of dream? A wishful delusion? His brain playing into what he wanted to see and manifesting it before his eyes?

His boy. His son.

He couldn’t be here.

That would have been too easy. Too much like a miracle or something that edged into a fairy tale ending. Things in his life were never that impossibly easy, which meant that it must be fake.

He looked at Jason, taking in the lax angles of his face and how perfect of an illusion this was. It looked so real, sleeping there with Tim pressed into him. It was a memory of him, perfect and painful, echoing into the present of Bruce’s grief.

Tears came to his eyes, and he didn’t try to hold them back. This was painful, a blessing and a curse all mixed into one blinding oasis.

He reached out, unable to hold himself back, even though he knew it would break the illusion. He couldn’t help himself, though, not when Jason seemed so _here_ and startlingly alive.

Bruce’s hand was shaking slightly and he placed it on the crown of Jason’s head. The skin was warm under his touch. The fine strands along his hairline were soft and painfully familiar. He gently brushed along the white streak in his son’s hair and waited.

He waited for all of this to dissolve.

To crumb into dust between his fingers.

For it to be revealed that this wasn’t Jason.

He waited…

And waited…

But the illusion held and began to flutter its eyes open.

Jason groaned, blinked and then, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to bury further into the bed. He moved to roll over, only to be stopped by Tim’s top half which pinned him into position. “Five more minutes,” he grumbled in a voice rough with sleep.

Bruce felt his knees go weak, unable to hold his weight any longer. He crashed to the ground, loud enough to wake every Robin on the bed and put them into high alert.

But he didn’t care about that, not with Jason blearily waking up and not slipping away into nothingness.

“Jaylad,” He breathed the name, hoping that he wouldn’t break the spell by naming it. “Jason, you’re…”

He felt four sets of eyes snap onto him, but he only met one of their gazes.

Jason was quiet, assessing him in a way that made him seem both older and younger at the same time. His face was unreadable and, for a second, Bruce thought that he was really going to disappear into thin air. But he didn’t and his faraway expression melted into something soft and delicate.

“Hey Dad,”

Bruce broke with two words. He had faced supervillains and criminals and all the evil that the world has to offer, but, in the end, he was brought down by two simple words.

“Jason, Jason, Jason,” he repeated his son’s name and wrapped him in a hug. It was awkward with Jason still laying on the bed and Bruce partially kneeled on the floor, but somehow it was also perfect.

He felt Jason’s breath on his neck, and he felt his son vibrantly alive beside him and he felt a warmth that he thought had been banished forever.

_Jason was alive. Jason was here._

“I’m sorry to break up the moment,” Tim’s voice came through muffled. “But you’re crushing me.”

Bruce blinked and realised that hugging Jason also meant hugging Tim who had been using Jason as a pillow. Tim who was now currently squeezed between them.

Bruce saw a flash of Jason’s smirk, and his son was, suddenly, returning the hug with a tight squeeze. “What’s that, Replacement? Am I smothering you?”

Bruce felt Tim begin to struggle and received a sharp jab to the hip. He grunted with the force of it and felt Tim suddenly still.

“Shit, sorry B, that was meant for Jason.”

“Jason, stop making Tim hit Bruce.” Dick’s voice piped up from the other side of the bed.

“Drake, your aim is horrific. How could you possibly mistake the hooligan for someone like Father?”

“Hey, watch yourself, you little shit.”

It was their banter, so familiar, but something that he hadn’t heard in three months and that he had begun to think he wouldn’t hear again. He was supposed to be stopping it, but right now, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

He could have listened to it all night, but Tim’s struggles were increasing, and Damian had started actively rooting for “Todd to defeat Drake and give him an embarrassing end”.

“Boys,” Bruce’s voice cut through the bickering and Tim finally managed to pop his head out. “I think you have some explaining to do.”

There was a prolonged silence before Dick did a little happy bounce on the bed and chirped. “The Jason Protocol worked!”

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“The Jason Protocol. You know our plans on what to do if someone has returned from the de—” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the word and served into the rest of the sentence “—and needs to return to the family after being gone for a long time.”

His memory was coming back to him now. It had been probably about a year ago maybe more, and Dick had shoved a sparkly binder into his hands and told him that their family had protocols now. He remembered nearly crying when he realised the first protocol was one to bring them all home.

Dick was giving him a flat look, clearly thinking that he had forgotten about the family manual and continued into a lecture.

“Well, _Jason_ did not forget about the commitments he made to his family.”

Beside him, Jason mumbled something that might have been a curse on his so-called ‘commitments’.

“And when he needed to be picked up. He followed his individualised protocol and safely arranged a contact with me so I could return him home.”

Jason scrunched his nose in disagreement. “I texted you ‘I lived bitch’ with a selfie that I’m 95% sure you almost ignored because you thought it was fake.”

Dick smiled sweetly. “You have no proof of that.”

“Yes, I do. I was there. I heard you mumble about thinking it had been a prank text.”

“Lies.”

Bruce watched Jason square up about to launch himself into bickering with Dick and he really wondered how he found this beautiful just a couple of minutes ago.

“Jason. Dick. Don’t fight.” He cut off the argument before they could begin. He fixed his gaze on his eldest.

“These protocols. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have one streamlined version, instead of individual sub-protocols?”

Dick shook his head like Bruce had said something blasphemous. “No, B. Every member of the family personally created their version of the protocol. It’s specifically designed in order to prevent a Dildo Contingency.”

He heard the other three boys snicker, even though when he met their eyes, they all had matching looks of graver seriousness.

Bruce took a deep breath and realised that this wasn’t something that he was going to win. Dick had that gleam in his eye, and honestly, how could he fault something that brought Jason back home.

If it worked, then that was all that mattered.

“Alright, so you picked Jason up and brought him back here.” Dick nodded and Bruce turned to his second oldest. “Any injuries?”

He shrugged. “They hadn’t roughed me up for a while until I made my escape. My ankle is fucked. My body feels like a huge bruise and I think I broke my wrist and it healed wrong, but other than that I’m pretty okay.”

That was good. Not great. Bruce would have rathered Jason come back in perfect health, but they were injuries they could work with.

For the first time in months, he felt the dread of death lift from his shoulders. Jason was here. He wasn’t dying. He was home.

Bruce stood, taking in the sight of all his children curled up on the bed and looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this, but it was more than he could have ever hoped for.

“I’m sorry I woke you all up. I suppose I should let you go back to sleep.” He forced the words out, not quite willing to give up this image, but knowing his children needed sleep.

Jason was giving him that faraway look again before suddenly he was swinging his legs out of the bed. “You know what, I think I’m awake now and want a hot chocolate.”

A yawn almost escaped him, but he bit it back.

“You know what me too.” Dick said, catching on to Jason’s implication immediately.

“Me three,” Tim flailed a bit and managed to untangle himself for the blankets.

Damian only wrinkled his face in distaste. “Are you insane? It’s much too late for hot chocolate and clearly, you are all exhau—”

“Nope,” Dick cut him off with a sharp edge to his voice. “We are all going to the kitchen and drinking hot chocolate with Dad.”

Damian glared at him, but eventually relented with a grumbled “fine”. He leveraged himself off the bed and began to stomp to the kitchen. His lip was stuck up in a pout that was definitely adorable, though Bruce knew that his youngest would never accept it.

Dick followed after him with Tim behind him, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His second youngest paused in the doorway, risking a look back to Bruce and Jason. His eyes flickered between them, before landing on Jason.

A silent conversation passed between them and Jason gave a swift, but firm nod. Tim’s shoulders relaxed minutely and he padded out the door and towards the kitchen.

Then, suddenly, it was just them. Him and his son that he had thought dead too many times. Jason was as still as a statue, except for a small twitch in his fingers. He didn’t meet Bruce’s eyes and instead stared at the rumpled blankets on the bed like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

Which was fine. Bruce could wait until his son was ready.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and the words were rough in the soft darkness. “I knew I should have asked before I came here. I’ll leave soon once I figure out if my safehouses are fucked or not. I just need some time to…”

Jason kept up his anxious ramblings, fingers twitching more the further he got into it. Instantly, he looked thirteen again, full of fight and fear that one wrong move would have him thrown on to the streets. He had never lost that wariness, even though most of the time it faded into the background. Every time it came back into the forefront, though, it made Bruce’s heart ache and want to hold Jason close and ensure he had a home.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Bruce said, cutting Jason off.

His boy’s shoulders hunched forward, still refusing to look at Bruce. “You don’t have to say that. I remember how shitty my last return was.” Jason gave in an almost invisible flinch. “I get that you wouldn’t want to go through it again, so I’ll save you the trouble and kick myself out.”

Bruce thinks he heard his own heart crack in half. How could Jason not know how much Bruce wanted him here? Jason was his son, his second-born, his miracle child that had been taken and given back. Yes, they had their differences, but none of that would ever shake his devotion to him.

Jason had to know that.

Jason _had_ to know that.

… Jason knew that right?

“Jay,” Bruce started and Jason shot his head up, meeting Bruce with a glare.

“Stop it,” he growled, anxious fingers turning into tight fists. His gaze was as hard as steel.

“Jaylad,”

“Don’t fucking call me that! I’m not that kid.”

He turned to the anger, like he always did, aiming at the places he knew would hurt Bruce. Bruce had risen to the bait before, but now he saw it as the deflection it was. “I’m giving you a way out. I’m telling you, you can dump me, no hard feelings. So just take it!”

Jason was yelling now, voice ringing in the otherwise peaceful room. Every part of his body was tense, waiting for a blow. The hurt was still full in his eyes, even though he was trying to use anger to cover it up.

“Well, I refuse,” he said plainly, not rising to Jason’s anger.

His son startled, visibly shocked before quickly shoving it down. “What do you mean you refuse?”

“I mean, I don’t want your deal.” There was a pause in which Jason still stared at him in disbelief. “Jaylad, I want you here. I want you home.”

Jason shook his head and tried to back up but was stopped by the bed. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You can’t.” Jason’s voice was hitching on itself now, stuttering over words. “You can’t… I’m not right. I’m not good for you or them.”

Bruce hummed, fighting to keep calm even though his whole body ached with the need to bring Jason close. “I think I can be the one to decide that.”

Jason looked at him with watery, disbelieving eyes and he gave into the ache. He crossed the small distance between them and wrapped Jason in a hug. The boy squeaked in his arms but didn’t fight it. He didn’t pull away, even though he was as stiff as a statue and obviously not comfortable.

But then, ever so slowly, the tension trickled out of him and he relaxed into the hug. Jason laid his head on Bruce’s shoulder, and he felt his son’s hair tickle his neck. And most, miraculously, he felt Jason’s heart beating like a drum on his own chest. Bruce tightened his arms around his son, feeling how alive and present he was.

A happy part of his mind just kept repeating the words: _Jason. Here. Alive._

God, he had missed Jason. He had missed him so much it hurt and, now that he was here, that broken part of him was being healed.

Jason always had his limits though, and after about a minute of being held, he was being to squirm. Again, Bruce got hit with the memory of young Jason who had approached him with the wariness of a beaten dog, but had adamantly wanted attention. Jason was full of contradiction like that, and as confusing as it was to keep up with, it was one of the parts of him that endeared him to Bruce.

“Okay, B, that’s enough. Between you and Dickiebird, I’ve completely filled up my hug quota for the next six months.”

Bruce tightened his arms one last time, before letting his son go. Jason backed away with a huff that might have been affectionate in the right light.

Bruce chuckled, ruffling Jason’s hair as he passed by him to go to the kitchen. “Come on, old sport, we need to make sure your brothers haven’t burned anything down.”

Jason quirked a smile, following after him. “’Old sport’ who in this century says that?”

He didn’t answer and only smiled to himself. They both knew that the only reason he said the term was because of reading the Great Gatsby with Jason when he was younger. That Jason had always giggled with he heard the words, and even older Jason huffed a subdued laugh.

They heard the brothers before they saw them.

“Tim, you can’t put coffee in your hot chocolate. It’s not the right time of day for that.”

“Those are brave words from a man who tried to put cereal in his hot chocolate.”

“Hey, that was a genius creation. It’s like a Kit Kat in a cup!”

“Master Dick, I must ask you to please refrain from making any more of your so-called ‘creations’ in my kitchen.”

“Heh, even Pennyworth cannot stand your terrible ideas Grayson.”

Bruce walked into the kitchen first, grateful that nothing seemed to be actively on fire. Damian and Tim were perched on the kitchen island stools, each clutched a mug to their chests. They were both snickering at their oldest brother who seemed to be in a standoff with the butler.

Dick was crouched like he was about to launch into a fight maneuver. Alfred was standing calmly with his back perfectly straight, but also subtly guarding a box of cereal against Dick’s grabby fingers.

All in all, the average warzone that the Wayne family kitchen was.

Alfred turned his attention to Bruce when he entered the room. “Ah, Master Bruce, I—”

His face went white and froze as he caught sight of the figure behind Bruce. There was a moment where no one moved, and then, ever unflappable, Alfred accepted it and his face melted into a warm smile.

Jason stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying his damnedest to look smaller. He kept flickering his eyes up to Alfred before bringing them down to the floor again.

“You know, Master Bruce, when I said you would bring him home soon, I had no idea you would be so prompt.”

Bruce chuckled, pouring hot chocolate into a mug of his own. “I couldn’t bear to keep you waiting any longer.”

Alfred’s smile widened marginally. “Master Jason,” the boy’s head snapped up immediately. “I’m glad to have you home.”

Jason gave his rarest, shy smile that only Alfred could manage to draw out. “Thanks, Alfred, I’m happy to be back.”

Alfred’s smile didn’t waver as he went to prepare a mug of hot chocolate. In the distraction, Dick made a tactical assault on the cereal box, which was stopped by a quick rap on the knuckles with a spoon. Tim had fallen asleep on the kitchen counter and Damian was now trying to sack strips of paper on Tim’s head.

Jason scooted himself on the other side of his sleeping brother and was now also stacking things on top of Tim.

Bruce knew that he should stop it, but he didn’t. This was his family in its natural state, now complete and whole and vibrantly alive. He just smiled and let the familiar chaos laugh around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: let's write a quick and fun reunion fic! It won't be more than 5k words long!
> 
> *40 pages and 16k words later *
> 
> Me: what have I done.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Whelp, this is over now. I hope y'all like it!
> 
> Now I will refocus back on The Dildo Protocol (hint: I figured out the plot. Like a fully functioning plot. Be ready.)
> 
> Thank you for reading and sticking to the end! Please kudos and comment! Flattery gets you everywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> I know that this series was mostly meant for fun and humourous stuff, but I really love some family angst too. 
> 
> The second chapter to come soon! It's going to be Jason reuniting the rest of his family (i.e. there be more hugs)
> 
> You can visit my tumblr at [ SalParadiseLost ](https://salparadiselost.tumblr.com) where I post tumblr things and general writing musings.
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment! Flattery gets you everywhere!


End file.
